


swallower of anger

by SiriCerasi



Series: this world is gonna burn [3]
Category: Haven - Fandom
Genre: Anger, Episode Tag, F/M, Gen, Gunshot Wounds, So much anger, because coffee fixes everything, but clearly not enough anger
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-27
Updated: 2014-08-27
Packaged: 2018-02-15 01:14:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2210124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SiriCerasi/pseuds/SiriCerasi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Post-4.01: Survivors) She will not let a simple bullet wound and Nathan fucking Wuornos keep her down. She will <i>not</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	swallower of anger

**Author's Note:**

> **Spoilers** : Through 4.01  
>  **Warnings** : Language. Gunshot-wound-related PTSD. Ish.  
>  **A/N** : Written for my H/C bingo prompt "job-related trauma". Lyrics/title from "[Nobody Praying For Me](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5gokNVyDsr4)" by Seether.

_i’m a whisper lost upon wind_  
 _i’m the ember that’ll burn you down_  
 _i’m the water that’ll drown you_  
 _i’m a star that’s just a black hole now_

_**xxx** _

“I can do this.”

Her voice quivers, but Jordan forces it steady. She will not let a simple bullet wound and Nathan fucking Wuornos keep her down. She will _not_.

Why did he have to come back?

“I can do this,” she states again to the empty room. Her apartment, sparse as it’s always been. A place to crash, more than a home. She fingers the scar on her shoulder absently, feels the one on her stomach pull with a jolt of pain.

_The last touch you’ll have felt will have been mine…_

Jordan snarls. Forces herself out of bed. She will _not_ let that man leave her a shivering ball in bed.

Her phone rings from the nightstand, and she’s about to ignore it when she sees Dwight’s name pop up. Somehow, no matter how angry she is with him, she’s never been able to ignore the man.

So she picks up the phone, snaps, “What?” without preamble. She can imagine the look on his face – eyebrows raised slightly, but otherwise unchanged. How the man always manages to keep his calm, she’ll never understand.

“Good morning,” he says mildly. Jordan sighs, slumping over, head in her hands. She’s too exhausted to keep up the bile right now.

“What do you want, Dwight?” she asks wearily. Her voice is still raspy from sleep.

There’s a little pause, as though Dwight’s… studying her. From a mile away. Finally, he answers, “Didn’t get a chance to check in with you yesterday,” in that kind voice that melts her anger away further.

 _Yesterday_. The day all hell had broken loose, as though it hadn’t already done that five times over. The day Nathan Wuornos returned with his fantasy tale of bringing Audrey back.

“I’m fine,” she states shortly. “The hell do you care?”

Dwight ignores that with practiced ability, just continues serenely, “Been a while since we’ve talked. Coffee?”

Jordan rubs a hand over her face, biting back a growl. She doesn’t know how he does it, every damn time. Talking her down. Talking her into things she’d normally avoid with a vengeance. Buying her fucking coffee. Which she finds herself appreciating, more than she should; her job at the G&R had fallen through when getting shot had made her even more irritable and jumpy than usual, and no matter how much Joe apologized he couldn’t have her injuring customers.

So it’s not like she has anything to do today, other than decide what to do about Nathan.

“Fine,” she sighs. She knows he won’t take no for an answer, anyway. And she supposes she should be grateful he’d take time out of his busy-as-police-chief day to spend with a degenerate like _her_.

Her thoughts are spinning so loudly she doesn’t hear his next words, until he says her name a few times. “Uh…” she blinks, scrubbing at her face again. Nightmares have plagued her for months now, worse than normal, leaving her sleepless and exhausted. “Sorry, what?”

Another one of those considering pauses, until he says slowly, “I said, ‘How about Jenny’s in an hour?’.”

“Sure.” An hour is enough time to get herself together. Hopefully.

_**xxx** _

_i’m a terrifying danger_

_(and everybody loves to see a fall unfold)_

_**xxx** _

“You gonna be okay with Nathan around?”

They’re sitting outside, enjoying the rare peaceful sunlight in Haven. Well, had been enjoying. Nathan tends to bring storm clouds with him, literal and metaphorical.

Jordan laughs mirthlessly. “Do I have a choice?” She stirs her coffee irritably, glaring at the street. Nathan fucks them all over, disappears for six months and leaves _her_ to clean up his mess, then comes back to Dwight’s welcome. She grips her mug so tight the leather of her gloves creaks.

Dwight just watches her with a guarded expression, absently fingering the straps on his vest.

So. _That’s_ what this is about. He’s worried she’ll try to kill him behind her back. “Fuck you,” she snaps. Acids burns her throat and tears her eyes as she jerks her chair back, standing.

“Jordan, don’t.” He grabs her hand, heedless of her skin, and she turns with a snarl. But his face is so damn open, so genuinely concerned, that she can’t maintain that angry front.

“Why not?” she asks hollowly. “I’m not going to kill Nathan, Dwight. You got what you came for.”

“That’s not…” Dwight clenches his jaw, the most anger she ever sees in him. His fingers tighten around hers. “Jordan, that’s not why I’m here.”

Jordan barks a laugh. “Right, you’re here because you _care_.”

“Yes.” Goddamn him and his sincerity. Goddamn her inability to push him away like she should.

She sits back down, tugging her hand from his and wrapping her arms across her stomach firmly. “What do you want from me?” There’s less bite in her voice than she’d like, and she takes a swallow of coffee to cover it. Dwight watches her. Studies her.

Then he shrugs. “A nice cup of coffee. A morning in the sun. Y’know, normal things.” He smiles a little, hard lines of his face softening, and Jordan feels something inside her relax.

“It’s hard.” Her voice startles both of them. Dwight tilts his head a little, questioningly. “Having Nathan around,” Jordan clarifies, looking away. Her fingers twist themselves back into leather knots. “It’s…” She clenches her jaw, shaking her head angrily. Enough.

Dwight leans forward to rest his elbows on the table, sighing softly. “I know,” he states, absently turning his mug in his hands. “Part of me hates him for leaving the town this way. But the other part…” He looks up at her, that intense gaze almost pleading. “He saved your life, Jordan. I can’t hate him for that.”

There’s a strange tightness in her chest at that, almost a warmth, even as she mutters, “I wish he hadn’t,” before she can stop herself. Dwight’s hand suddenly covers hers, warm even through her gloves. She thinks he’s shaking, then realizes it’s her.

“Jordan,” he says softly. She clenches her jaw.

“I’m fine.” She shakes her head sharply, dispelling the words. “Forget it, Dwight.” But she doesn’t pull her hands from his, and he doesn’t let her go.

They sit in silence for a moment as she stares blankly ahead, trying to pull herself back together. To mash her shattered pieces back under her protective skin. She’d held on for so long, always with the knowledge that it would _end_. Once Audrey went into the Barn, it was supposed to _end_. For 27 years, anyway, which right now seems more than a lifetime.

But it hadn’t. That day had come and gone and left her broken, body and mind. And now…

“Do you believe him?” she asks, voice is smaller than she’d like. Dwight lets out a long breath.

“I don’t know.” He releases her hands, raising his to rub at his face. He looks tired, she realizes, now that she looks for it. Almost as tired as she is. “I think he believes it,” Dwight continues. “And Duke is back, so _something_ must’ve happened with the Barn.” Jordan growls softly at that name. The last time she’d seen Crocker, before yesterday, he’d shot her full of metal. God, the _pain_ …

Dwight raises an eyebrow at her. “He’s not a bad guy, Jordan, once you get past his Trouble.”

“He _shot_ me,” she snarls. She almost, _almost_ stands, but there’s real shock on Dwight’s face.

“He… I always thought Nathan…”

Jordan laughs mirthlessly. “That would’ve made sense, I guess.” She places one hand on her stomach, crosses the other to rub her shoulder. Dwight watches her movements, frowning.

“You never told me what happened that day,” he finally says. This time, Jordan does stand.

“You never asked.” She forces her arms to her side, fingers clenched so tightly in fists she can feel her nails dig into her palms through her gloves. Dwight says nothing, makes no move to stop her. That hurts more than getting shot ever could.

She stalks away without another word, leaving Dwight to pay for his mess.

_**xxx** _

_rust is showing on my armor_  
 _i am wheezing like an old man - done_  
 _i’m a product of my anger_  
 _i’m the bullet in a loaded gun_

  
_stand up and break my bones_  
 _everybody wants what they just can’t hold_ _  
there’s nobody praying for me_

**Author's Note:**

> comments are love!


End file.
